Mythilus Stormrunner
by mythiliswarrior
Summary: First 2 chapters of a World of Warcraft fiction centering on my own toon, Mythilus. This story is NOT canon!


Chapter One

The morning dawned bright and sweet in the elven city of Darnassus. Light pierced through the purple canopy of leaves and hit the lakes with unnatural sparkle. It was not hard to tell the difference between an elven forest and a human forest - this particular elven forest being on the giant tree of Teldrassil, the Night Elves' island off the coast of Kalimdor. Mythilus Stormrunner opened her eyes to the light and rose from her bed, clad in nothing but a cloth gown. She smiled to herself and proceeded to dress in the heavy mail armour she wore daily, and exited her room to stroll into the warm sun. Her turquoise hair cascaded down her back to just above her waist, and her long feathery eyebrows twitched as she frowned at the Brewfest partygoers. A distraction and a bane to the city! Myth had been down that path before, flirting with her friend's brother and vomiting on poor Simba, her faithful Dawnsaber. Putting her bad mood behind her and pasting a smile on ehr face in an attempt at cheerfulness, she mounted Simba and galloped through the portal to Ru'theran village and to Stormwind City, Eastern Kingdoms.

Stormwind was alive with activity. Dwarves, Draenei, Night Elves and humans ran around, going to the auction house, the bank, the Gryphon master and out the gates to Goldshire and beyond. Mythilus's eyes searched the crowds huddling in the Trade district for a familiar face. She smiled as a well-muscled Night Elf man clutching a golden staff approached her. Shadewell, Mythilus' one weakness. 'Myth!' he said, his voice cracking with emotion as the two embraced. Mythilus breathed in the warm, sweet scent of Shadewell's body and placed a hand to his chest, feeling the rhytmic beating of his heart and the druidic magic he possessed. Shadewell was a strong restoration Druid, a healer and shapeshifter, able to form into a bear and a wild cat. Mythilus pulled away and examined her friend's fresh scars. 'You've been getting into fights, I see,' she commented 'Not exactly,' said Shadewell with slight annoyance, 'I came across a bear in a trap that I couldn't leave. In his fear, he clawed me quite severly, as you can see. Come,' Shadewell lead his friend out from the city centre and into the Cathedral square. They sat on a bench and Mythilus weighed up her options in her head. She knew that Shade was about to say something important, as he had not spoken on the short walk, yet she had important topics of her own to discuss. 'I have heard,' began the elder Elf, 'That the Alliance is in desperate need of healers, down near Ironforge. As our magic is particularly strong, restoration druids are being strongly urged to go...' He trailed off, avoiding his companion's gaze. Myth looked away, a small, single tear falling from her platinum eyes. She had to tell him now. 'I don't think you should go, Shade. I don't know what I'd do without you'

'You'd have Milltharius. As much of a loner as he is, I cannot see why he would object to your company given my absence.'

'It's not about that..' Mythilus continued. 'Shadewell, I've fallen in love with you. By the light of Elune I promised myself I wouldn't but...you've become such an important aspect of my life. You raised me nearly from the dead.' Mythilus's mind wandered to that day, years ago, when she was sent to a cave deep in the desert to slay a group of Blood Elves spying for the Horde. A powerful warlock had nearly ended her life with an Affliction curse, poisoning her body over a period of time to make her suffer. Believing her dead, the blood elves had left back to Orgrimmar and their Orc leaders, and Shadewell had stumbled across the near-dead warrior and healed Mythilus, restoring her health and beginning their friendship. 'Mythilus,' Shadewell's voice brought her back to the present day, 'Perhaps this relationship is not for the better. A young woman like yourself could be a Priestess of Elune soon, not setlled with a mate and expecting a child. You are too mcuh a free spirit for me to justify holding you down like that. Although I respect, and share your feelings.' He turned with a half smile, and touched her cheek with his roughened hands. 'I do love you too, Myth, and I have for some time.'

Chapter Two

Mythilus was going to Ironforge; Shadewell at her side! Although warriors were not needed in Ironforge, Mythilus had spoken directly to Tyrande Whisperwind regarding Shadewell's deployment, and the Priestess had organised for Myth to go as well, knowing the pair had a future between them - provided neither of them died, of course. Her bags packed and armour cleaned, Myth waited aboard Simba for Shadewell to finish packing. The night elf finally emerged from his room and mounted his Frostsaber, smiling at his friend. 'Shall we go?'

'We shall.' The galloped off towards to portal to Ru'theran Village and the docks for the ship to Stormwind. They dashed through the portal, landing safe on the other side and handing their sabers to the stable master, who promised to keep their mounts safe until their return. Lined up at the dock were two other passengers, a human paladin man and a young Draenei woman, probably a priest from the staff on her back. 'Last call for the Stormwind war ship!' Called a blue-haired Darnassian sentinel. Mythilus and Shadewell hurried to the docks. 'Name?' Asked the sentinel to Mythilus 'Never mind!' she continued 'I'd know you anywhere, Mythilus. Welcome aboard, and have a safe trip!' She turned to Shadewell. 'And you, sir?'

'I am Shadewell Stormsong, restoration druid,' he replied. With the same well-wishing, the sentinel welcomed him aboard the _Bravery_, a ship normally used for regular passage between Teldrassil, Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, but had been assigned this mission for its exceptional crew. Night was falling as they boarded and within some time, the other passengers retired, leaving Shadewell alone in the library, and Mythilus naked on her bed, eyes closed, thinking about her love.

Shadewell took some clothing from his bag, methodically folding and organising each item in the tiny wardrobe that shared as his storage space until the ship docked at Stormwind. The night air was cool and still. Shadewell stopped his organisation abruptly, and leaving his clothes half folded on the bed, walked outside. In the middle of dressing for bed, Mythilus heard the footsteps from the room next door and peered around her door, careful not to reveal her nakedness. She spotted Shadewell walking forlornly down the deck. Myth pulled a silken dressing gown around her and followed him, trying to wonder what was wrong, but instead admiring his muscled torso in the midnight moonlight. A feeling of attraction and love swelled in her chest, making a silly smile paste itself on her lovely face. She composed herself, and walked over to where Shadewell now stood, staring into the fathomless deep of the ocean. She placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Why, after all we have been through, must we fight again? We stood against Arthas and his servants, against Deathwing's pursuit and now, when there is not threat imminent, we fight amongst ourselves.' Myth laid her head on his shoulder blade. 'The Horde have done so much wrong,' she began 'that the humans and many other associated with the Alliance believe they should be punished.' Shadewell sighed and turned to face her. He cupped her face with his large palms and half-smiled 'And yet, you are still more beautiful than Elune could allow.' He kissed her, soft and deep, hands still holding her chin. Mythilus placed one hand on his chest and melted into the gesture. They pulled apart, and Shadewell's eyes travelled to her shoulders, her silken gown. He attempted to pull the gown away from his companion's shoulders but she resisted. 'I'm-'

'I know,' Shadewell interrupted. Mythilus allowed herself to be disrobed, and laid down on the wooden deck. Shadewell laid on his side next to her, running a roughened hand over her lavender skin. He kneeled over her, and kissed the top of her cleavage, almost not daring to continue downward...


End file.
